They sure do seem to get away with just about anything.
To call me confounded by their behaviour would be an understatement. They’re stubborn and confusing. Ugh!
Okay, okay. I’m painting all men in a pretty broad stroke here, when I should be saying I’m talking about my husband.
He’s just so goddamn infuriating.
The movies never get it right. When two humans come together to live out the remainder of their lives, it is often portrayed as all sunshine and daisies.
But it isn’t. It’s hard work, ya’ll!
Case in point: my husband annoys me. All. The. Time.
His walk is my biggest gripe. He can’t walk in a straight line anywhere. He walks into people all the time. When he talks on the phone, he constantly does a do-si-do. He can’t stand in one spot, and even if he knows there’s a person standing behind him, he will step backwards into him/her. And he gets away with it! I have tried time and again to stop him, but sometimes I swear he does it on purpose to just aggravate me.
He folds laundry all wrong. (Just stay with me and ignore the fact that he does it.) When he folds the towels, he never does them the right way. He doesn’t seem to understand that folding them the way I do means getting more into the tiny linen cupboard. Or the sheets. Heaven-forbid he folds a fitted sheet. Nope. Just rolls that sucker into a ball and stuffs it into the closet.
He drives way too close to the cars in front of him, but if I do the same thing, he grabs onto the door like he’s planning a daring escape. I try to stay quiet about it, but from time-to-time, I gasp or growl under my breath and immediately regret it. Apparently it makes him jump. That’s not my fault. I’m just reacting, is all!
While I’m at it, let’s set the records straight here and now. This is all about me. Me, me, me. Not how wonderful he is. Even if he is a bit awesome.
He insists that I never mow the lawn. If something needs to be fixed, he has to be the one to do it, and if the gutters need cleaning, he’s the only one allowed on the ladder to do them. The worst thing of all, though? Sometimes I come home on a Friday and the housework is already done. The smell of Pine-o-clean smacks me in the face as I walk through the door, and the only thing he has to say for himself is that he thought I needed a break from it. Seriously! …Wait. That sounds awesome. He’s not, though! He really is just the most annoying man ever.
His little idiosyncrasies are just… ughhh… Like when he’s sitting down to watch a movie, he is never still. I can feel his fingers twitch as they cup my shoulder. His toes wiggle to their own beat. His heart beat is as loud and steady as his breathing, and every now and then, he taps his fingers too.
He’s stubborn. He never wants me outside alone in the dark. In the mornings, my dog walks are strictly on lighted streets. If I stay in town late, he insists I call and talk to him while I’m on the train so he knows I’m safe. He prefers if I’m out with others instead of alone because he trusts they will protect me. He just doesn’t trust the other half of the human race.
He will randomly buy me a stuffed toy or a chocolate bar or a video game just because he wants to see my smile. He makes lame dad jokes for the same reason too. And if ever I call him upset, he has the nerve to be calm and settle me down with only a few words!
Seriously. He is the worst…
Only he isn’t.
I’ll admit it. I annoy him just as much (if not more) than he does me. We are damn cute when we fight about these tiny aggravations cuz I’m just adorable and he’s just like a big teddy bear.
Seriously, though, if that’s the worst I can come up with about my silly and amazing husband, I’m pretty sure we have a mighty fine marriage.